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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947431">Coming Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahliemee/pseuds/mahliemee'>mahliemee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Betrayal, Cock &amp; Ball Torture, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Humiliation, I guess the entire 'Rapist Accuses Victim of Enticing Them'-theme could also be read as homophobia, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Objectification, Painful Sex, Rape Furniture, Restraints, Size Difference, Teachers noncon Student Sentenced to Public Use as Detention (m/m) - Freeform, The student's age is never specified but I was thinking of a small-for-his-age 16yo, Tied Up and Raped All Day, Victim Blaming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:33:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahliemee/pseuds/mahliemee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's spring break, and the students are off to see their families.<br/>Well, all but one.</p>
<p>High time the teachers get some much needed stress relief.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character(s) &amp; Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Nonconathon 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coming Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/gifts">anysin</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm sorry we did not get matched on your main fandom, but I tried to hit as many of your tags as possible to make up for it.<br/>-<br/>A million thanks to El for the beta.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What a wonderful place to be.</p>
<p>Professor Barkley takes a deep breath of cool morning air, overlooking the boarding school’s grounds from the edge of the eastern tower. Lush woods as far as the eye can see, dark greens muted by the haze of last night’s fog. He sighs in contentment. What a rare gift the silence is. On this first day of spring break, most students are off to see their families. Even the handful of boys that do not have any living relatives (in accordance with the school’s philanthropist mission, they take on a couple of orphans every year) have left on a cultural trip to the city, sponsored by the school’s generous patrons.</p>
<p>Barkley smiles. How peaceful it is with all the boys gone. Well, all but one.</p>
<p>He moans softly and discreetly readjusts himself in his trousers. Time to go downstairs and pay a visit.</p>
<p>Oh, what a wonderful place to be.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>The boy hears him coming and rattles his cage. No surprise – the basement is old, and every step down the stairs echoes through the dark, stony vault.</p>
<p>The pillared hall must have been a distinguished place for ritual and ceremony in the olden days, but it’s abandoned and empty now. Empty, but for a knee-high block of black marble right in the middle of it. The pedestal supports a delicate golden cage, in the form of a human figure on its hands and knees.</p>
<p>There is, indeed, a naked figure locked inside. The trapped boy has no chance to move out of the bench position the cage forces him into. Golden bars rattle as the boy tries to glance at who’s approaching from behind him. "H-hello? Who- <em>ah!</em>" The voice is cut off by further metallic sounds.</p>
<p>Barkley steps towards the boy’s head and laughs. "Careful! Those bars must be freezing."</p>
<p>The boy shivers, uncomfortably trying to scoot back into a position with less contact against the cold metal. "Please sir, let me out."</p>
<p>"Aw," Barkley tuts. "But we’re only just getting started!" There are some conduits leading from the underside of the marble block to a panel on the nearest wall. Barkley reaches for it. "Here, let me help you adjust that. The cage wasn’t built for someone as slender as you."</p>
<p>The quality of the device is indeed amazing. Though at least 50 years old and far from any modern digital device, the cage can be adjusted by a couple of cog wheels. Barkley turns them clockwise three times, and with a loud rattling that makes the boy jump in surprise, the bars draw tighter. "Stop!" the boy cries.</p>
<p>"Sh, don’t worry," Barkley murmurs while he turns the wheel further. "I’m just making sure you’re held securely."</p>
<p>The boy is already gasping beautifully as the chilly metal touches the skin of his back and arms, but the sound that’s forced out of him as the bars press against his belly makes Barkley’s trousers grow tight. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Now that’s better."</p>
<p>He allows himself a moment to marvel at the pale, bony figure utterly immobilized by the golden cage. Dangling down freely between his restrained thighs, the boy’s balls and dick look incredibly exposed. The cold makes them seem even smaller.</p>
<p>"Well," Barkley says. "Are you still pretending not to know why you’re being punished?"</p>
<p>The boy huffs. "There’s no reason! You never liked me. And now Professor Gibson isn’t here to watch out for me."</p>
<p>Barkley hums. "Ah, it isn’t my fault that it’s always the history teacher who gets sent along on those field trips, is it?" He smiles coldly. "But you’re wrong anyway." Barkley reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of gloves and a plastic bag. He puts on the gloves and then fishes some dark fabric out of the bag. He holds it under the boy’s nose. "Do you recognize these?"</p>
<p>The boy does, his face turning red in an instant. "That’s… underwear. School uniform, it… everybody has those," he whispers desperately.</p>
<p>"Ah, yes?" Barkley turns them around gingerly, exposing white stains inside. "You wanna say everybody dirties them like this, watching their classmates do sports?"</p>
<p>The boy has turned <em>crimson</em> by now. "No," he gasps, "I didn’t – these are not mine!"</p>
<p>"Really," Barkley says dryly, leaning down to whisper into the caged boy’s ear. "Then why were you seen trying to dispose of them during the end-of-term athletic festival?"</p>
<p>"I wasn’t," the boy gasps. "I didn’t!"</p>
<p>"Here’s what I’m thinking," Barkley says, straightening up and stepping towards the boy’s feet. "I think you’re a pervert. I think seeing the older boys sweat and spar and take off their shirts got you so hot and bothered that you stole away from the crowd and touched yourself inappropriately." He lets his fingers run over the top of the cage, clammy skin divided by golden squares. The boy’s entire body shivers, trying to curl away, but there’s nowhere to go.</p>
<p>"Or maybe," Barkley muses, "Maybe you didn’t touch yourself at all. Maybe you were just squirming in your seat until you made a mess of your pants." Barkley hums. "Yeah, I could imagine you like that." Slowly, he reaches out, pressing the black fabric in his hand against the boy’s exposed dick.</p>
<p>The boy cries out. If the cage were in any way loose, they’d know it by now, because the boy tries to break free with all his strength. But the cage doesn’t budge. Barkley gives the boy’s dick another good squeeze. "Admit it," he orders. "Or I’ll have to take a sample for comparison, is that what you want? DNA doesn’t lie, and I am still a chemist, remember?"</p>
<p>By then, the boy is shaking. "Please," he says, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I did it, but I didn’t mean to, I just – sometimes my body, it, it aches, it reacts, I – I couldn’t help it, please let me go, it’s never going to happen again, I’m so sorry –"</p>
<p>"I bet you are," Barkley laughs. He drops the underpants on the ground. With one gloved hand, he weighs the boy’s soft balls.</p>
<p>"You know what, let’s get that semen sample anyway."</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>The boy keeps begging Barkley to stop, though his words are strangled and often interrupted by a pained gasp or a sob. Barkley has made a point of touching the boy’s dick harshly with his gloves on, no lube. It’s turned an angry pink color, matching the boy’s shame-red tint. It has, however, grown at least half-hard.</p>
<p>"Look at that," Barkley says. "Told you so. Perverts like you don’t mind the pain. They’re too greedy."</p>
<p>"You won’t get away with this," the boy rasps. "When Professor Gibson returns -"</p>
<p>Barkley pauses. "Do you have a crush on him?"</p>
<p>"What? No!" The boy’s eyes widen, and Barkley laughs.</p>
<p>"I bet you do. I’m gonna tell you a secret: he’s got a huge cock." Barkley chuckles to himself. "Saw it at the sauna once. Average length-wise, but <em>thick</em>." He runs a finger down the boy’s ass crack, rubbing gently. "God, look at that tiny hole. I bet if he used you, he’d split you in half."</p>
<p>Barkley notices smugly how the boy’s dick jumps at his words. He smiles and keeps teasing the boy’s hole while jerking his dick with the other.</p>
<p>"You can’t fool me," Barkley says. "You love it. You’re ashamed, but you love it."</p>
<p>"No," the boy moans.</p>
<p>Barkley chuckles. "Then why are you getting my glove all wet, huh?" He squeezes the boy’s dick even harder, eliciting a sob. "In fact I think you’re as hot and bothered as perverts like you can get without having something shoved up their asses." He laughs, circling the boy’s hole with his finger. "Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let you wait any longer."</p>
<p>The boy’s sob turns into a shriek as Barkley pushes the first digit in. The boy’s entire body twitches. Barkley squeezes himself through his pants while he waits for the boy’s panicked sobs to subside.</p>
<p>"Stop pretending," he says. "You can cry all you want, but your body clings to me as if it never wants to let go, and your little dicklet’s started drooling like there’s no tomorrow."</p>
<p>"It hurts," the boy sobs.</p>
<p>"Yeah," Barkley says. "We caught you early, and your body is pretty slender to begin with. Most perverts have developed a bit further by the time they’re first being used this way. But don’t worry: you’re made for this, your body will adjust in no time." He retracts his gloved finger and pushes in again immediately, pumping back and forth a few times. "See, already much better."</p>
<p>The boy has fallen silent, apart from the occasional gasp.</p>
<p>"You like it like that?" Barkley asks. "Dry? I bet a bit of a burn makes this even more memorable. I’ll give you an entire finger like that now." Barkley feels the boy’s body clench down around him, and it does take some effort at first, but once he’s in past the second knuckle, the boy’s body just sucks him in. "Yes," Barkley coos, "that’s it, that’s what you’re made for."</p>
<p>The boy sniffles silently. Barkley makes a mental note to bring handkerchiefs later, so the boy’s face doesn’t get all snotty and disgusting if it turns out he’s a crier.</p>
<p>Barkley crooks his finger now, feeling around carefully. The way the school’s biology class is set up, Barkley doubts the boy knows anything interesting about the prostate. Once Barkley hits it, he doesn’t let go again. He keeps stroking and prodding, first gently and then harder, trying to figure out what gets the boy going. The satisfying answer to that is: everything. The boy gasps in surprise and mortification and tries again to angle his body away. To no avail, of course.</p>
<p>"What are you doing?" the boy whines, fingers and toes curling up.</p>
<p>"Giving you what you need," Barkley says. "Told you so. See how right that feels?" He redoubles his efforts, hitting that sensitive spot with renewed vigor, and tugs at the boy’s dick at the same time. "Come on, show me how much you crave it."</p>
<p>The boy’s entire body spasms so hard the cage creaks as the orgasm is forced out of him.</p>
<p>Barkley laughs as the boy’s small balls twitch and empty themselves over the black marble. He doesn’t even pretend to take a sample.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Those stairs are not gentle on the knees. Professor Henderson curses. He used to be in better shape. And later he’s got to climb up all that again! This better be worth it.</p>
<p>"Morning," he greets Barkley. His grumpy voice lightens up as he takes in the occupied cage. He whistles. "Hear, hear. Where’s everyone?"</p>
<p>Barkley is about to stow away a roll of duct tape. Seems he just taped the boy’s mouth shut, and Henderson can’t help but be a little disappointed. He loves to hear them beg.</p>
<p>Barkley looks up. "I asked you here first; I need your special talents."</p>
<p>Henderson frowns. "I doubt you need me to calculate something?"</p>
<p>"No. I need you to properly pierce open that tiny asshole." Barkley smiles coldly. "I truly think he hasn’t done that before, and you’ve got… the perfect shape for it, if you get my meaning. Pointed on top, wide at the base?"</p>
<p>Henderson chokes. "What the hell, do you keep tabs on your colleagues’ equipment?"</p>
<p>Barkley laughs. "Well. Only the interesting ones. But hey, if you don’t want to do the honors…"</p>
<p>"No!" Henderson cuts in. "To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to this for a while. Haven’t been able to get away from here for months, I’m basically starved. So what have we got?" He comes closer, inspecting the boy in the cage. Barkley adjusts the cage so the boy’s legs are pried even further apart and his hole is obscenely exposed.</p>
<p>Henderson raises his eyebrows. "Wow. That is indeed tiny. It looks rather inflamed already, though?"</p>
<p>Barkley gestures beneath the cage, and Henderson notices the pattern of white spatter on the black stone. "Gave the boy a little taste," Barkley laughs. "One finger, nothing more – and that’s how excited he got."</p>
<p>Henderson whistles, eying Barkley. "I have to give it to you, you always pick them well."</p>
<p>He lets his eyes rest on the caged boy for a moment. He’s bony, small for his age, and even though the cage is cutting tightly into his skin, Henderson sees him trembling.</p>
<p>He licks his lips. "Well. Let’s get started, then."</p>
<p>Barkley has prepared everything, and hands Henderson a surreally huge bottle of lube. "There’s more where that came from," he says with a sly smile.</p>
<p>It’s strange, though, touching himself with Barkley watching him like that, even if he’s barely opened his fly to reach inside.</p>
<p>"Can I have a little privacy here?" Henderson asks with a grunt.</p>
<p>Barkley turns away discreetly. Henderson sighs. It’s going to be easier once everybody has their dicks out, but right now he feels exposed. He looks at the boy’s tiny pink hole, and keeps tugging at himself, to little to no avail.</p>
<p>"You know," Barkley says loudly, and god, <em>that’s not helping</em>, "If you need a little something to get… inspired, why don’t you break out the ruler?"</p>
<p>Henderson frowns. As a matter of fact, he always has several different ones in his bag, and it’s true that painting red stripes on the boy’s ass would definitely help get him going, but… "I wish! Look how finely woven that cage is! It’s more than frustrating when you want to hear a good hiss of metal against skin, but instead you only hit bars."</p>
<p>"<em>Well</em>," Barkley says, gesturing vaguely between the boy’s legs. "How convenient that not all of him is inside the cage, then?"</p>
<p>It takes Henderson a moment to realize what Barkley means, and then his eyes widen. The boy’s balls and dick dangle out of the cage, completely vulnerable. He can’t believe it didn’t occur to him by himself.</p>
<p>As if on command, Barkley hands him a small, metal ruler. Henderson can’t even be angry that Barkley has gone through his bag. "Right," he says, crouching down beside the cage with a grunt. "That’s amazing. That’s actually perfect."</p>
<p>Slowly, almost tenderly, he slaps the ruler against the boy’s balls. Even through the duct tape, the boy’s shriek is delicious. What’s even better is the fact that no matter how the boy tries to break out or reposition himself, his little package keeps hanging down right there in plain sight.</p>
<p>The next slap is less gentle, and the boy’s sob goes straight to Henderson’s groin. Yeah, that’s definitely working. By the time the boy’s skin is flaming red, Henderson is rock hard and leaking.</p>
<p>"Well, ouch," Barkley comments. "He won’t be using that for a while."</p>
<p>"Ha," Henderson says. "Boys like him get their pleasure elsewhere anyway."</p>
<p>Barkley helps Henderson up. His knees scream bloody murder, but so does his cock. Time to take care of that.</p>
<p>He’s about to take up position behind the boy, when Barkley stops him.</p>
<p>"Show him first," he says. "Before you put it in, show him what he’s getting."</p>
<p>"Sure." Henderson hobbles forward. The boy’s face is almost as red and blotchy as his balls. Henderson fumbles with his fly until he can finally tug himself free. It feels amazing.</p>
<p>"Bet he’s never seen a real, full-sized dick before," Henderson laughs, jiggling his meaty cock towards the caged boy’s face. "There you go, some inspiration for your sick little fantasies."<br/>Barkley chuckles at the boy’s wide-eyed look. "Nah, he doesn’t need that. Bet in his fantasies all dicks are buried balls-deep inside him." He knocks on the golden bars near the boy’s face. "Ain’t that right, boy?"</p>
<p>Of course, the boy can’t reply. His shocked face suggests that he is, indeed, not all too familiar with adult-sized dicks.</p>
<p>"God, I’m fucking bursting," Henderson says. "Let’s give him what he needs." He doesn’t even mind Barkley watching him anymore. His cock is dark red and glistening wetly, half from the lube and half because he’s fucking <em>dripping</em>.</p>
<p>"There we go," he sighs as he positions himself. The boy’s hole is clenched so tightly, though; even pressing against it forcefully, he can’t slide in. Henderson grunts in frustration.</p>
<p>"Wait," Barkley says. He steps forward and leans over the cage from the front until he can reach the boy’s nipples. "Gonna relax him a bit."</p>
<p>Henderson laughs. "Whatever works." The boy whimpers lowly.</p>
<p>"It won’t hurt if you don’t fight it," Barkley tells the boy, "Once he slides in, your little pervert body will adjust. You’re made for this. It’s gonna feel like coming home."</p>
<p>The boy whines again, but what Barkley does to his nipples seems to actually get him going. Henderson’s impressed.</p>
<p>Eventually, the boy’s body opens up a little, and Henderson squeezes the tip of his dick in. He grunts deeply with the pleasure of being so tightly immersed. The fact that the boy is all but hyperventilating in panic only makes it better.</p>
<p>Barkley strokes the boy’s cheek with mock tenderness, but but a smile is spreading across his face. "There you go. Feel that? Once the tip is in, you can’t stop it." He looks up at Henderson and nods. "Fuck him."</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>It takes about ten minutes and half the bottle of lube until Henderson has worked himself in balls-deep. He wipes the sweat from his brow. "Who’d have thought we could make that fit," he sighs. He rocks back and forth a little bit. Seeing the wide base of his cock disappear into the boy’s slender body looks surreal, and absolutely delightful.</p>
<p>He makes sure their skin mashes together with every thrust, because it looks hot and because of the utterly desperate whimper that last inch draws out of the boy each time. Henderson even allows Barkley to capture some of it on his phone.</p>
<p>As amazing as it feels to draw this out, Henderson desperately wants to come. He picks up the pace; he grips the cage and starts fucking the boy with quick jabs, causing a never-ending litany of whimpers. It’s so good, and he’s so close, but he can’t quite tip over the edge.</p>
<p>Barkley watches for a while, then loosens one side of the tape around the boy’s mouth, and the volume of the boy’s whimpers increases immediately, and yes, that almost works. Henderson climbs half on top of the cage to get the best angle to drive himself in hard and deep. Sweat is running down his back.</p>
<p>Now that the tape is off the boy’s mouth, each thrust fucks some drool out of him. Henderson imagines doing the same inside the boy, thinks of himself shooting a bit of precome into the boy’s pink hole every time he drives in. "You’ll never be clean again," he whispers.</p>
<p>From the corners of his eyes, he sees Barkley picking up the ruler again, and oh god, yes. The boy’s too far gone to notice Barkley kneeling down beside him. He does, however, notice as the ruler snaps against his sore balls again. The boy’s yell cuts through the entire hall, and that’s it, Henderson’s eyes roll back with the intensity of his orgasm. He collapses onto the cage and clings to the bars until he’s finally empty to the last drop. "Wow," he gasps. "Wow."</p>
<p>The boy’s hole keeps twitching as Henderson pulls out, and Barkley takes some more photos.</p>
<p>"You want to have a go now?" Henderson asks as he cleans himself off. He turns away because he feels Barkley’s eagle eyes on his private parts again. Sometimes he’s not sure if Barkley’s into this for the right reasons.</p>
<p>Before he can say anything, though, they hear footsteps and chatter from the stairway.</p>
<p>"Well!" Barkley claps his hands cheerfully. "Looks like we’re about to get started."</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>The holidays pass in a flash. The days start a little later than during term, with the first teachers sleepily stumbling downstairs at around 8 am. They relieve themselves of their morning woods and drink one or two cups of coffee. (They learned early on that it’s a good idea to bring a little side table downstairs, because some will fuck the boy so hard the cage shakes, so you can’t securely set anything down on top of it.)</p>
<p>Then they have breakfast in the hall, take a shower, go for walks, and do accumulated paperwork and some planning for next term. Lunch is at 12 o’clock sharp and tea at 5, and in between there’s reading, chess, and the occasional stress relief downstairs. Even though most teachers joke they can’t get it up as often as they used to, there is almost always a little queue formed behind the boy’s pink ass. Some whisper that Barkley supplies those who ask with certain stimulants, but maybe it’s just the entire setup that makes them feel young again.</p>
<p>The waiting time to get off gets shorter around midweek, though, when they start being able to use the boy from both ends. While he used to clench his teeth tightly at first, once his ass was sore enough that any kind of relief sounded like heaven, they generously allowed him to get half of them off with his mouth.</p>
<p>And while the boy’s ass is swollen and flaming red, and he doesn’t get tired of begging and crying, he also not infrequently gets hard. Of course, he doesn’t have orgasm after orgasm as his teachers do, but most of them have already managed to fuck at least one out of him. It’s become a kind of sport. It’s also amusing somehow, and quite titillating, so whenever a teacher notices the boy getting close, he asks a waiting colleague to take out his phone and document it. By now, all of them have some movie clips on their phone that show the boy panting, panting, <em>panting</em> - and then, to the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin, crying out in defeat and splattering all over the marble pedestal.</p>
<p>Yes, Barkley was right. The boy deserves what they do to him indeed.</p>
<p>After dinner, most of the teachers get together to watch a movie in the common room, though some just take a laptop downstairs. Usually, there’s one last big get-together before bedtime. Smoking is prohibited indoors, but many of them enjoy a good glass of wine or whiskey to accompany their last orgasm of the day. Lights out is usually no later than midnight.</p>
<p>Soon after, the janitor finishes cleaning upstairs and sweeps the floor in the basement. He also cleans and feeds the boy, and though it’s not allowed officially, none of the professors are going to complain if he takes some little price for that while they are sleeping.</p>
<p>A week is over in a heartbeat.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>It’s a horrible sight. Professor Gibson almost trips, because the floor is sticky as far back as the stairs, and in the middle of the room is some torture device. It’s like medieval stocks - a golden cage in the form of a person on hands and knees, meant to completely immobilize. The bars are drawn so tight, what’s trapped inside looks like a crushed lump of meat.</p>
<p>"David?" Gibson crosses the disgusting floor. The stench is horrible, too, and as he gets closer… the white lump of flesh has a hole in it, gaping open widely, rimmed by a swollen, pink ridge. There’s semen dripping out of it.</p>
<p>Gibson rushes to the boy’s head. "David, is that you? Wake up!"</p>
<p>There’s a wet cough and David lifts his head, the little that’s possible in the cage. His eyes are gummy and his lips are swollen, rubbed red and with white fluid dripping out of them too. He tries to open his eyes, to say something, but nothing more than a rasp gets out.</p>
<p>"I’m gonna get you out of here," Gibson says, tugging at the golden bars. They don’t budge. David tries to make another sound Gibson doesn’t understand, but he catches the boy’s gesture towards the wall to his right. Gibson rushes towards the panel and flips a switch - the correct one, thankfully. The cage unlocks with a click.</p>
<p>Gibson rushes back and pries it open.</p>
<p>"Come on, let’s get out of here." He hooks his arms under his student's armpits and pulls him upright. The boy cries out in pain. No wonder – god knows how long those sick animals have kept him locked up in that position.</p>
<p>"Here," Gibson says, "drink this." He takes out his hip flask. Not exactly medicine, but it’s high-proof and will have to do for now. He sets it to David’s lips and gently pours a generous sip down his throat. The boy coughs, but then opens his mouth again. "Water," he whispers.</p>
<p>"Not water," Gibson says, but he lets the boy have another big gulp. Then David’s eyes roll back, and he lets himself be lifted out of the cage. "Hold on tight," Gibson says. "I’m gonna carry you."</p>
<p>The boy is not heavy at all, and he puts his arms around Gibson’s neck gingerly. Fortunately, they run into no one on their way upstairs. A couple of students are celebrating their return from the field trip in the dining hall, and the students visiting their family are only due tomorrow.</p>
<p>The boy is sticky all over, and Gibson brings him to the communal showers on the second floor. The students living there are not back yet, but Gibson locks the door behind them anyway. He lays the boy down gently and turns on the warm water. David doesn’t react at all.</p>
<p>Gibson peels off his own clothes swiftly. Somewhere in his pocket, his phone beeps to indicate a new text message, but he ignores it and gets back into the shower.</p>
<p>"There you go," he says, pulling David under the warm spray of water. "I’ve got you." He props the boy up against him, so the water doesn’t hit his face, and starts soaping up the boy’s body.</p>
<p>David’s head rolls back against Gibson’s chest, and he sprawls out with a sigh. Gibson scolds himself for noticing how obscene it looks. Surely the boy is only welcoming the fact he’s being cleaned. Gibson makes quick work of the boy’s face and chest, and soaps up as much of his legs as he can reach from behind him.</p>
<p>Gibson swallows. No, he’s not imagining it. The boy’s dick is sticking up stiffly. He tears his eyes away. He does not lather up that part.</p>
<p>"Come on David, other side," he says when the boy’s front is clean. David mumbles something and lets himself be manhandled onto his belly. Initially, Gibson thought it a good idea to use the communal showers instead of his personal one, because they’re much roomier, but now he regrets his decision. The shower heads cannot be taken down, and the spray from above really does nothing against the mess of semen around the boy’s ass and down his thighs. He looks around and finally decides to take one of the soap bottles down from its wall mount. He chooses an almost empty one and fills it with water.</p>
<p>"Don’t worry, I’m just cleaning you up," he says and sprays the soapy liquid on David’s thighs."Sorry, that may burn," he murmurs as the boy startles. He doesn’t try to move away, though. Instead, he spreads his legs wider and angles his hips up eagerly.<br/>There’s really no way around it; Gibson has to soap up the boy’s backside now. He feels himself blush as he goes to work, but he ignores it. This needs to be done, end of story.</p>
<p>Gibson can’t help but stare at the boy’s inflamed anus, though. How many cocks does it take for a butthole to gape like that?</p>
<p>Even though he’s wet from head to toe, Gibson regrets getting naked. Kneeling behind the boy, he sees his own cock next to the boy’s hole. (It would probably fit. And his cock never fits anywhere.)</p>
<p>He tears his eyes away and silently says a prayer as he’s finally done and David is somewhat clean again. Gibson turns off the water and goes to fetch some towels and a first aid kit. There’s none, but he does find some soothing cream.</p>
<p>His phone is ringing, and a glance at the screen tells him it’s Barkley, that fucking monster. He declines the call and brings an entire pack of towels into the stalls, where he lays them out and rolls David onto them, rubbing him dry limb by limb. (He’s so pale and his dick is so red and it sticks up so insistently.)</p>
<p>"Almost done," Gibson says as he dries the boy’s hair. (His lips are still so swollen, he looks like a porn star.)</p>
<p>Lying there, his face comes dangerously close to Gibson’s cock, and then suddenly – Gibson cries out as a hot tongue laps at him. Panicking, he grabs the boy by his hair and yanks him away. (He still feels the boy’s tongue on him. When did he get hard?)</p>
<p>"Please," David slurs, eyes unable to focus. "Please let me lick it. Please - in my mouth."</p>
<p>Gibson shushes him. "You’re safe," he murmurs. "Hold still, this is going to help with the pain." He gently applies a generous amount of cooling cream to the boy’s backside. (How amazing it must feel to have that swollen ring tightly wrapped around his cock.)</p>
<p>"Please don’t put it in there," the boy repeats. "Please put it in my mouth."</p>
<p>Gibson shakes his head. "Nobody’s gonna hurt you." The boy just moans, and rocks into the towel beneath him.</p>
<p>"Stop that," Gibson orders angrily. "Here, turn around. Does your penis hurt, too?" It must, because it looks as rubbed raw as the boy’s lips. (He imagines his colleagues jerking the boy off while they raped him.)</p>
<p>"There, I’ll give you some cooling cream for that, too." He rubs it on there quickly, lightly. (But the boy still moans like a whore.) Before Gibson can withdraw his hand, the boy gives a guttural moan and soils his belly with cum. "I’m made for it," he whispers.</p>
<p>(Gibson thinks that may be true.)</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Gibson carries the boy to his own private bedroom and locks the door. The boy has drifted off again and does not react to being tucked in. Gibson slumps into his armchair with a groan. What a goddamn horrible day.</p>
<p>His phone rings again and he quickly turns off the sound. He sees two missed calls and over 10 messages from Barkley. Most are pictures.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;<em> Evolution </em>&lt;&lt; Barkley wrote, and sent photos of the boy’s anus, all tight and tiny at first, and later the way Gibson’s seen it today.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt; <em>Don’t sulk! We opened him up for you! XD </em>&lt;&lt;</p>
<p>&gt;&gt; <em>You’re not actually calling the police, are you?</em> &lt;&lt;</p>
<p>&gt;&gt; <em>Might as well close down the entire school and send away all your precious little charity cases, you know that, right? </em>&lt;&lt;</p>
<p>&gt;&gt; <em>Come on, talk to me. </em>&lt;&lt;</p>
<p>&gt;&gt; <em>Don’t worry, he loved it, look: </em>&lt;&lt; There are some pictures attached of his colleagues taking the boy from both ends, and one video that seems like a close-up of the boy orgasming.</p>
<p>Gibson doesn’t hit play. He shifts in his chair uncomfortably. He’s painfully hard.</p>
<p>Barkley calls again, and this time Gibson picks up, furious. "What the hell-" he hisses into the phone.</p>
<p>"Have you fucked him yet?" Barkley asks casually.</p>
<p>"How dare you-" He gets up and goes to the bathroom, so his voice won’t wake the sleeping boy.</p>
<p>"He’d love you to," Barkley says. "Honestly. He usually moans your name when he gets fucked especially well."</p>
<p>"You’re a monster," Gibson says. "And a rapist. All of you are."</p>
<p>"Look," Barkley sighs. "If it disturbs you, we can stop. I thought it would be nice to permanently have some stress relief after a long day, especially now that the next term is starting and we both know it’s going to be an exhausting one. I don’t think I can ever see anything else in that boy but a fuck toy, but if that’s not compatible with your <em>morals</em>, we’ll find another way to unwind. Let’s talk tomorrow.”</p>
<p>"Go to hell," Gibson hisses.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Barkley hears a loud rumbling over the speaker. He assumes Gibson has thrown the mobile phone onto his desk. It seems in his anger, he’s missed the button to properly hang up.</p>
<p>Barkley is about to end the call himself, when he hears something interesting on the other end. But he must be mistaken – that plastic crinkling sounds like a condom wrapper. He presses his ear against the phone.</p>
<p>He hears creaking, like weight shifting on a bed, and the rustling of fabric. Then a sigh, and that’s definitely the boy. It’s weird imagining him as something that’s able to move.</p>
<p>"Shh, it’s alright." That’s Gibson again. "It’s just me."</p>
<p>Barkley holds his breath, but he can’t hear anything other than deep breathing and the muted squeaking of a bed.</p>
<p>Then suddenly, the boy cries out sharply. Immediately, Gibson shushes him. "Just me, you’re dreaming. Here, drink some more of that." Barkley hears a metallic screw-cap and the sound of pouring liquid. The boy gulps and coughs. "That’s good," Gibson says, "Just a little more. Yes."</p>
<p>The boy splutters weakly, and then soon after, Gibson is moaning softly. "Oh my god," he whispers. "So good. So good." The boy mewls, but his small voice is drowned out by another, louder moan.</p>
<p>Barkley imagines Gibson on top of the boy in his dark, perfectly tidy dorm room, his unrealistically fat cock slowly rutting into the boy’s ruined hole.</p>
<p>Barkley silently chuckles to himself. Delightful! The next term might be a relaxing one after all.</p>
<p>Over the phone, the boy whines, low.</p>
<p>Barkley puts the phone on speaker, leans back and opens his fly.</p>
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